Pills
by tellmamatobuggeroff
Summary: Blaine has a secret that has haunted him since childhood. He knows that he needs to tell Kurt, but wants one more weekend with him before Kurt finds out and runs for the hills. Pill bottles are pretty suspicious though, and may mess up everything.


He's always been methodical.

In preschool, his crayons were always set up in line; red first, then orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, brown, black, and white. He didn't care so much if his clothing matched, but his room was all different shades of blue that complimented each other perfectly. He had picked out all the colors. His shoes were always set up in straight rows. His stuffed animals always faced forward and were five inches away from each other.

When he was in elementary school, it got worse. He hated chairs that were crooked. He couldn't stand dirty clothing. He made his handwriting perfect because sloppiness made his tense up. His parents began to worry, so they took him to a doctor who diagnosed him with something called OCD. He was only nine when he was diagnosed with that, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it. His parents spent a few thousand dollars looking for a medicine that could control it, but none currently existed.

Throughout the next five years, he tried to control it, he really did. He would drop his towel on the floor after a shower and _force_ himself to leave it there for as long as physically possible, but eventually his breathing would falter and he would need to pick it up.

He was fourteen when his parents found the first medicine. He took it every day. Forty milligrams of… something, he didn't know exactly what it was, that made it easier to be less in control. He thought it was gone, until he forgot that medicine one day. That was the worst day of his life. He felt like his life was shattering; out of control. He had a panic attack, and his parents took him to the doctors again. The man said that his OCD was out of hand, so he suggested therapy.

He met Kurt in junior year. He was on a better medicine that had been created only a year before, and he was doing wonderfully. He went to therapy once a week, and when he forgot his medicine one Saturday, he was able to actually function throughout the day. It was getting better; it was getting easier.

He and Kurt started dating, and he realized quickly that he loved the countertenor. He loved his eyes, his hair, his quirky smile, his fashion sense, and everything else about him. This meant that he needed to tell Kurt about his problem and his medication; except, Kurt asked him to meet his parents that weekend, so he would have to wait to tell Kurt.

Burt Hummel was a large man. Much larger than he was; he was small by nature. He was a slightly intimidating man, and Blaine wasn't so sure how much he liked this man. He watched him interact with Kurt, though, and wished he had that easygoing relationship with his own father.

"You're Blaine, huh?" Burt asked gruffly. Blaine nodded and 'yes sir'-ed him more than he ever imagined he could. Blaine shook hands with the family, at dinner with them, and chatted with Finn. He loved watching Kurt with his family. They were so obviously close to each other, despite the many bumps along the road to being a family.

Burt allowed Blaine to sleep in Kurt's room that night, but told them to keep the door open. They slept easily, and woke up the next morning to the smell of scrambled eggs and whole wheat toast.

Blaine sat down with Kurt at the table, prepared for a morning of learning more about his boyfriend's family, and then realized that the position of the orange juice pitcher bothered him.

"Blaine, are you okay?" Carole asked, noticing the boy's distracted look. Blaine tore his gaze away from the orange juice.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just… need to go grab something. Excuse me for a moment." Blaine said, adding a fake smile to his dapper tone. Carole nodded; she watched Blaine as he rose from the table and went up to Kurt's room.

He rummaged through his bag for the orange pill bottle that he had been sure to pack the morning before. It wasn't very hard to find; it had been hidden beneath a pair of dark jeans. He opened the bottle and shook two out. He'd need something to swallow this with. He looked around before resigning himself to the questions that would come if he went downstairs and took the medicine. He didn't know what else to do.

The pills warm in his hand, Blaine walked downstairs grabbed his empty cup.

"I need some water." He explained at Carole's confused look. Also, he needed to not see that freaking orange juice pitcher, but he wasn't about to say that. He filled his cup and downed the pills, ignoring Kurt's confused gaze. He tapped his fingers as he swallowed and then downed the rest of the water, praying for the meds to kick in fast.

"Are you okay, Blaine?" Kurt asked.

"I'm fine." Blaine said smoothly. He sat down at the table, careful not to look at the orange juice pitcher.

"Are you sick or something? You have been looking sort of under the weather." Kurt mused.

"It's nothing, Kurt." Blaine said. His tone was harsher than he meant it to be, and Kurt looked shocked for a moment. Nevertheless, the countertenor dropped it, and conversation turned more cheerful.

Burt knew something was up when that Blaine kid got so harsh with Kurt at breakfast. Blaine wasn't the type to be so closed up, so when he heard voices raised he had no trouble eavesdropping.

"Blaine, I just want to know why you're popping pills! It's really not as big a deal as you're making it!" He heard Kurt exclaim. Popping pills? That made Blaine…

"That makes me sound like a drug addict!" There it was. "I'm not 'popping pills'. I just take medication."

"Yes, and as your boyfriend, I would like to know why." Kurt's voice was patient, but it was clear that he wasn't giving up.

"I don't really want to tell you." Blaine choked out. Burt frowned at the pain in his voice, and then jumped when someone tapped on his shoulder.

"Listening in, are you?" Carole whispered disapprovingly. Burt pressed a finger to his mouth to tell her to be quiet.

"Blaine, I won't think any less of you for whatever it is. I'm just concerned." Kurt said desperately. There were a few moments of silence, and Burt could hear Blaine sigh.

"I have OCD. It was really freaking bad when I was a kid, but when I was about twelve a medicine that helped control OCD came out and my parents put me on that. Eventually, it stopped working, so my parents found a newer version. That's the medicine I'm on now." Blaine muttered.

"Why… why didn't you tell me before?" Kurt asked.

"I was going to tell you last week, but you asked me to meet your parents, and I decided that I wanted one more week with you before you ran screaming." Blaine's voice was dejected and depressed.

"Why would I… run screaming?" Kurt sputtered. Burt could practically hear the exasperation and pain in Blaine's words.

"My own parents aren't comfortable around me. Whenever I'm around them I feel like they're just waiting for me to freak out and start rearranging the furniture or something."

The kid's situation wasn't funny, but Burt found himself stifling a laugh at the way he worded it.

"It isn't funny, Kurt!"

Apparently, his son felt the same way.

"I'm sorry, Blaine. It isn't funny. It's just the way you worded it… and I really thought you'd have a bit of faith in me." Kurt said. Burt head clothing rustle and assumed that Kurt was hugging the fluffy hobbit that posed as his boyfriend.

"You're not going to run screaming for the hills?" Blaine's meek voice asked. Kurt chuckled softly.

"Of course I'm not. No one is perfect Blaine, and to be honest I was getting worried that your flaw was going to be something really bad. I still love you." Kurt's no nonsense voice declared. There was the sound of a chaste kiss.

"I love you, too." Blaine mumbled.

Burt smiled. That was his boy; always accepting people for who they were, and not caring if who they were wasn't perfect.

_I've really wanted to do a one-shot to show a flaw of Blaine's for a while. I was sort of sitting at my computer and I opened Word and then changed the font to Times New Roman and the size to twelve like I always do. I didn't really have an idea of what I was going to write, but as I changed the font the phrase 'so methodical' came to mind, and it morphed into this. _

_Hope you enjoyed it. Please review. _

_Disclaimer: If only I owned Glee…_


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